Horizon
The metropolis of Horizon is one of the most daunting of the Dragon Empire’s seven great cities, and certainly, it’s the most unearthly. Some find it to be a higher order of reality, more rational and perfect than the everyday world. To others, it’s an impenetrable labyrinth of riddles and forbiddance. You come to Horizon because you have to, and you often leave under the same circumstances. In this city, the skeins of destiny tangle with the archmage’s ley lines, and reality will never be the same. Horizon is orderly and secure, a testament to the archmage’s authority and intellect. The imperial colleges represents the best arcanery in all the worlds, and five so-called superiors effectively keep peace in the city. Any mayhem that breaks out in the subcity, just outside Horizon proper, can’t be held against the archmage. If anyone can make sense of the routes that one takes to navigate Horizon, they’re not telling. Those who grew up in the city can find their way, but others are liable to take a wrong turn or otherwise lose their way, often. Visitors hire guides to lead them around on foot, or hire carriages for a quicker and more comfortable option. Even natives, however, can’t always get from here to there easily. On some journeys, everything simply takes much longer than it should, and wrong turns lead to hours of backtracking. The one element of Horizon that confuses travelers the most is the multitude of teleportation arches called waygates. When you walk or ride through one of these free-standing stone and metal structures, you teleport to another arch somewhere within Horizon. Each arch connects to one of several destinations, which vary on an idiosyncratic schedule. These variable gates mean that any part of the city might be a short trip away from any other, at least temporarily. They also mean that two neighborhoods that are geographically close to each other are sometimes extraordinarily far apart. Horizon is a gleaming city of order and symmetry. People walking in the streets weave past each other as if their footsteps were minutely choreographed, but it’s all coordinated intuitively. Everything is in its place. You never spill your tea, and living is easy. It’s also easy to forget yourself and to get caught up in your tasks. Life moves at a stately pace, but you waste no effort, and even a moderate pace allows you to accomplish plenty from day to day. The archmage’s bureaucracy of administrators and functionaries operates at an unparalleled level of efficiency and effectiveness. Life is clean. Just outside the city is the rowdy subcity, a disorderly and gaudy place. Denizens of Horizon venture here to shop for indulgences and luxuries, to kick up their heels, and to carouse. Inhabitants of the subcity include people who find themselves unable to fit into the rhythm of Horizon proper. Life in the subcity is brash, colorful, unpredictable, and often short. No deal happens in Horizon unless it’s sealed in the subcity, or so you’ll hear. According to some, the subcity is an insignificant collection of disreputable castoffs. There’s nothing there but malcontents and disorder. Others say that the subcity is the real, living Horizon, while the city proper is nothing but a stultifying, bloodless shell, with an impressive skyline but no soul. To see who’s right, you’ll have to visit the subcity for yourself.